Blood on the snow: The Nightson and the Civet
by Eroket
Summary: Done with permission of Quinlan of Redwall. Read his After the Rain to fully understand. An ancestor of Jald Nightson has found his archenemy among the savage civet race in the Civet Purge of the West...how much is his revenge worth to him?


The Western Continent, a land of ice and snow. A land that may have once been beautiful and a place that may one day be beautiful again.

Now, though, the land is besieged by war and violence, has been for many, many years and the cause rests on the shoulders of the savage beasts known to others as the civets.

Creatures of ferocity and sadism, of rage and unbridled evil, the civets, over the course of the centuries, had launched three wars-to use the term loosely, free-for-alls would have been much more appropriate. These wars had rendered the Western Continent into a war torn wasteland, the inhabitants living in fear of their violent and savage overlords, their lives hanging by a small thread upon the whim of their capricious oppressors.

Civets are an odd breed. They resemble a cross of a wildcat and a ferret but are more ferocious than both species combined. Civets live on violence and rear their children on gore and blood. When a child is scarcely half a season, the parents wound a beast and bring it home first for their child's first kill and then as a meal.

The brutal cycle had continued for centuries. The few who spoke out or acted against the civets died and died horribly. In the far off days one hero had tried. His name was Felldoh.

He had opposed and defeated a civet known as Shiala and her brutality had shocked him to the core. He led a group of beasts to exterminate the civet race but all he had achieved was his own death.

In recent times, things had changed for the better. A beast had arrived from another continent, Ebralter by name. This ferret brought with him a large fortune in gold and treasure. Ebralter claimed he had seen the tyranny and cruelty of one civet: A beast known as Castor.

The experience with the civet had affected him so much that Ebralter had accumulated his fortune and distributed it to the families of the civets' many victims. He hadn't stopped there, though. Ebralter, AKA Ebb, had offered his gold to the sell swords, mercenaries and warriors among the Western Continent's denizens. So many, regardless of differences had one thing in common: hatred of the civets. They were the ones who took the job for free.

Among those who took the job for no payment was Malik Nightson of the prestigious and skilled Nightson clan. The ferrets of the line were known for two things: mercenary work and their skill with a sword.

Malik had his personal grudge with the civets that went back some years. Malik, his daughter Alexia and brother Strathan lived among a settlement on the coast. The civets had decided however civets decide things that they wanted the coast and the settlement. Border clashes arose with the civets and in the end a group of the beasts, working together in an almost hive fashion overran the settlement. Malik Nightson led the survivors to safety but his brother was not so lucky.

The final thing Malik saw as he watched his home lost to the flames was Strathan brought down by a civet known as Corthin. Malik, helpless to interfere watched Corthin tear Strathan's throat out with his bare teeth.

It was a gruesome, horrific death and it was one of the luckiest deaths those who battled civets received. Malik and Strathan had never been close, despite being brothers, but they were brothers and Malik found himself grief stricken. He earned Corthin's personal enmity eventually, the civet stuck out even among his own race, face having been mutilated by Strathan before his death.

Corthin hadn't been crippled in the attack. Crippled civets never lasted among their own kind. Weakness was deemed unworthy and the weak were devoured while still alive by their own kin. A mother would devour a deformed or blind baby or a son would dismember a crippled father. Ties of family were nonexistent with such foul creatures.

Such thoughts were in the mind of Malik Nightson that day as he slipped quickly through the icy slopes of the mountains, ears perked for the footsteps of the civet band following him. After these years, Malik had located Corthin and after all these years, Malik Nightson was ready for revenge.

Malik drew his black cloak tight around his lean, muscular form, forcing himself to think of Alexia as he kept himself moving. His emerald green eyes narrowing as he recalled his wife being claimed by an illness when Alexia had entered her teenage years.

Malik's rusty scarlet fur was coarse and rough thanks to the cold and harsh terrain, his eyes narrowed against the stinging wind. He knew if he didn't finish what he needed and get back to his new friend Ebralter before sun set, he would freeze to death. Or worse, rest in the bellies of his pursuers.

Malik rested a gloved paw on the hilt of his broadsword, smiling slightly as he allowed himself a second of rest, sighting his civet pursuers as they came into view.

Malik recognized the one he sought instantly; Corthin. The civet was tall, taller than most of his race and almost cadaverously thin. He carried a thin, straight sword and dressed in a fur cloak and the skins of beasts he had obviously slain. Crimson eyes stared out from a wrecked and twisted scar that served as a face. Sharp, needlelike teeth showed through a permanent snarl on the almost black fur.

"Do we see him?" One civet growled, pawing a wicked looking dagger, running his tongue over his lips in anticipation.

"Look," Corthin responded, eyes flickering over the mountains. "If he's strong and fast enough to make it this far into the mountains, he'll make us a good meal."

Wicked grins flashed among the civets, small snickers arising as their eyes almost glinted in the shadows. Not one would assert dominance over the other. That was almost a suicidal tactic for a civet. They'd accept no leadership from even their own race, thanks to their enormous egos. It was thankful. With a good, strong leader, Ebralter's forces may have stood no chance.

The lesson that even the civet children were dangerous was a lesson Malik had learned at a high price. In one of the purge's, he had collected another civet head and had seen a small civet child, huddled in a corner, head buried in its knees.

For a moment, a softer side had shown through and Malik had whispered comforting words, reached out a paw to the small civet. A look at his left paw, now missing the pinky and ring finger gave him a reminder to trust no civet, not even the children. Malik's life would have ended then if not for a shot from Ebb's crossbow.

Malik had survived and had pledged his life to Ebralter. From then on, they had become great friends despite their age different. Malik was also noticing something more then a friendship developing between the leader of the purge and his daughter Alexia.

"Up there!" A cry rose up from a civet throat and a paw pointed to Malik's location. Good, the ferret reflected with a small smirk. Just what he had hoped one of them would do. Dangerous and fierce to a one, but civets were not necessarily prudent or bright creatures.

The rumble from the mountain took a few seconds to make itself heard. In that time, the civets stopped their movement towards Malik, looking around frantically. Malik just smiled, "Screaming now, civet? Shall I show you how to scream?"

Malik threw back his head and roared, the echo of the howl reverberating through the mountain. He had scrambled to a safe location, having scouted the area out before he had lured Corthin and the others to the location.

"The mountain!" Corthin screamed, "Get clear!"

The large civet flung himself to the side. Alliance was a thing of the past as the civets fought tooth and nail to get to safety. Roars of pain and rage only seemed to heighten the effect.

Then the snow fell. Screams of shock arose from the civet war band, stifled as the screamers were buried under tons and tons of snow in the avalanche.

Then...silence. Coming in the form of shorts, ragged gasps was the relief of the survivors: three civets.

Well, four technically, but the fourth was on the ground, legs crushed beneath tons of snow so Malik didn't really count him. The ferret noted, with absolute glee, Corthin was one of the three still living. It was time to rectify the situation.

His good paw went for one of his dagger, flinging it with precision, watching it bite into a civet throat. The civet dropped with a gurgle and both of the remaining civets turned. The one beside Corthin barely had time to blink before a dagger slammed between his eyes.

Malik walked forward slowly into the open space, avoiding the civet trapped beneath the ice, ignoring him for the moment.

Corthin had lost his sword in the avalanche. Swallowing hard the civet took a step back. "Malik..."

"Hello, Corthin." Malik faced his brother's murderer with an icy rage in his eyes, drawing his sword and stepping forward.

The hideous civet raised his paws, taking two steps back, "I'm unarmed!"

"So, now you know how it feels. But, if you want to play fair, then..." Malik tossed his sword to the ground in front of Corthin's feet. "Fair chance given."

Corthin rejoiced inwardly at the stupidity of the ferret, kneeling slowly, paw clasping over the hilt of the sword and he rose, coming at Malik with a slash at the gut.

Malik sprang backwards, "Why, Corthin, are you trying?"

Corthin grinned, "I'll leave no flesh, no bones, Malik...nothing but blood! I'll devour you slowly and you'll be alive, still. You've had this coming for years since you started killing my race."

"You've had this coming since the day you were born. Don't be so cocky. You need to bring me down first and I'm not a crippled ottermaid."

With a snarl Corthin swung at Malik's neck. The ferret dropped into a crouch, rolling to the side as Corthin chopped down, springing to his feet, dealing a kick to the back of Corthin's leg.

The civet howled in sudden pain, sinking to one knee, swinging at Malik in a wild move.

Malik dodged to the side, good paw catching the civet's wrist, bringing the arm down over his knee, feeling it snap like kindling.

Corthin's scream was music to Malik's ears. The ferret began to beat the civet furiously for every year he had spent looking for him, every second he had suffered because of him, every life Corthin had destroyed,

Corthin was nearly unconscious when Malik took his sword, pushing Corthin back and driving the sword through one knee and then the other, making Corthin scream even louder.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Malik replied calmly as he pried open Corthin's mouth, breaking the civet's jaw with a methodical jerk. He took hold of one of the civet's fangs and tore it out. "Good. This is the pain you've inflicted on thousands of others, you and your miserable race! Ants deserve to live more than you, Corthin! It shocks me your race was aloud to live this long!"

Again he took hold of Corthin's fangs, tearing them out with savage motions. He held the civet's head so corthin couldn't drown on his own blood, not letting him fall unconscious. Not stopping until his paws were soaked in blood and Corthin's fangs were gone to the canine.

With a quick motion, Malik took two of Corthin's fangs and jammed them into the civet's crimson eyes respectively. Corthin couldn't even scream.

"I hope you can still hear me." Malik replied, gathering the civet's headfur up with his three clawed paw. With a single slash, Malik severed Corthin's head.

Turning away from the corpse, Malik walked back to the civet trapped in ice. Raising his sword for a scything swing, he readied himself.

There was little joy in the kill, just overwhelming relief that Corthin was dead. Truth be told, he didn't feel like killing anymore for the rest of the day.

The civet groaned through his pain, raising his eyes. "Kill me..."

Malik wiped his blade clean on the snow and sheathed it, turning to walk away.

The crippled civet's eyes widened. "No...don't leave me...don't leave me here!"

Malik didn't even turn. "There'll be some other patrols soon. The avalanche will have alerted them."

"It's your job to kill us! You know what we do to the weak! YOU KNOW!!!!" the civet wailed, horror of the mercy he'd find at his own kin outweighing that of death by the sword.

"My job is to send your kind to hell. You're in it."

Ignoring the screams and curses and pleas, Malik Nightson turned and walked away.

The sun was setting when Malik Nightson arrived home, Corthin's head in one paw. Malik walked through the streets, ignoring the glances of the beasts he knew and those he didn't, heading to Ebralter's house.

"Ebb." He replied, opening the door, hardly surprised to see Alexia seated across from the leader of the civet purge.

There was nothing extraordinary about Ebralter. He resembled an average male of his species and was filled with a sense of dry humor that was always appreciated by Malik. Malik's daughter Alexia was a head shorter then Malik with fur of rich scarlet and her father's deep green eyes.

Alexia averted her eyes as Malik walked in, smiling nonetheless, "Welcome back, father."

Malik smiled. "Thank you, Alexia...I trust you and Master Ebralter are getting along?"

Alexia flushed and Ebb chuckled nervously, "Will a wrong answer cost me my points or my life?"

"Neither. Alexia, please wait outside while we talk?"

She nodded once, "No problem. See you at dinner, Ebb?"

Ebb nodded and Alexia stood, bending forward as if to give Ebralter and quick kiss, but paused when she saw her father. She quickly gathered herself up and exited.

Malik flung Corthin's head to the ground and Ebb shuddered, "So, that's Corthin. Dammit, Malik, he must have pissed you off. And stop tossing their heads on the carpet; it'll cost a fortune to fix that!"

"Sorry. And something like that. His death is its own reward. I wiped out an entire war band with him. Avalanche."

Ebb smiled, "Nice job. Say, not meaning to brush this aside, but there's kinda something I need to talk to you about."

"You love Alexia and want to marry her." Malik replied without l

"You Nightsons creep me out." Ebb chuckled nervously, "But yes, you're dead on the mark."

"I can't really refuse, Ebralter. I owe you. I also see Alexia likes you...there's no future for her with me. She has no taste for the mercenary world and war. When this is over, you've told me your plans. If she wishes to live a life of peace, let her."

Ebralter's face broke out in a wide grin, "Great! Can I call you dad?"

"That'll cost you your ears." Malik smiled.

"Hehe...can't have that, can we?" Ebb rose and stretched. "Well, I'll go talk to Alexia. Do you mind cleaning that up?" He gestured to Corthin's head.

Malik shrugged, "Fuel for the fire?"

Ebb nodded, "Sure. See you later."

Ebralter exited into the exterior of the hall to speak to Alexia, probably to ask her to marry him. Malik sighed slightly.

A Nightson just went along with the flow and all. Guess this was no exception.

Malik studied his crippled paw before rising, warming himself by the fire. Sometimes, one just had to go along with the flow, after all.


End file.
